Two parts contemplation, one part teen angst.

I'll not beat about the bush, I've been feeling a little down recently, a bit behind the times and lonely, I suppose as a result of being unemployed (enter life lesson from mother about not being idle, not waiting for opportunity to come knocking). It kind of depresses me, knowing that I am a statistic. I mean, I'm already a statistic simply by being but this isn't the interesting kind of statistic, just the dull kind. I know that some people have picked up on my mood so I may as well confirm it here.

I remember my gran telling me when I was very young that I would always have a friend in my favourite book. Its a memory which pops into my head occasionally when I'm feeling sad or lonely or whatever, and I think that its a very good little pearl of wisdom that she passed onto me. Standing in the shower the other day (one of my most common "good ideas" places) I was thinking about the joys of a real book as opposed to e-books and audio books. I absolutely love my local library. For a lot of my last year at school I could be found sitting with various books at the big bay window. You can't replicate the experience of reading your favourite book with an e-book. The smell papery, dusty smell of the pages, the slightly rough way they feel - kind of like the sugar paper I used at primary school, way that you can just disappear into another story. I have read a few e-books. The experience wasn't terrible, but really, sitting in a library scrolling down on your phone/laptop/other medium just isn't the same. I suppose reading is my form of escapism, if you like. Anyway, what do you think? Will the e-book some day make real books obsolete?

A final little mention to someone, whose take on Depression Dog gave me a little laugh: